


Missed Call

by Moiraine



Category: The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Death, M/M, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-11-19
Updated: 2011-11-19
Packaged: 2017-10-26 07:10:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moiraine/pseuds/Moiraine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Marcus is in there</em>, he kept thinking.  The place where people were shooting each other and getting killed was where the one person he really loved was trapped.  And as he listened to the rings and the recorded voice, that was all he could think of.</p><p><em>Marcus is in there.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Missed Call

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the prompt: http://the-eagle-kink.livejournal.com/2132.html?thread=1826644#t1826644

Marcus fumbled for his phone with shaky, blood-stained fingers. It slipped once, then twice from his hold, almost clattering to the floor before one of the other hostages gently took it from him.

“Who?” the woman asked in a strained whisper—the teller who’d been taking care of him at the window when the gunmen had entered the bank. There were a few others huddled around him, avoiding the spreading pool of blood, but sheltering him so he could make a call, hopefully without being discovered.

“First speed dial,” he managed weakly, so very grateful that she was helping him. The woman tapped the screen a few times, and then held it against his ear. Marcus was grateful for that, too, letting his arm fall to his side, into the spill of warm blood that continued to flow from the gunshot wound in his thigh, even with the makeshift tourniquet of a belt.

 _Ring._

He didn’t know why the thieves had decided a spray of bullets was necessary. They’d all been on the floor, following orders. No one had to get hurt. But one of them had decided to show off just how powerful they really were. And it would have been fine, if one of the bullets hadn’t ricocheted and torn through his left thigh. Now here he was, bleeding out on the cold, tiled floor of his bank, trying to make one call to his boyfriend before the gunmen spotted him from they were huddled tensely, trying to figure out what they were going to do now that they’d probably be brought up on murder charges.

Marcus wanted to point out if they surrendered, they might still avoid that one.

 _Ring._

It wouldn’t have been so bad if he could stop shaking. Whole, full body tremors gripped him, and he was so _cold_ , going numb and he probably couldn’t have worked the phone now to save his life. _Ha_. _To save his life. Very funny, Marcus_.

 _Ring._

He didn’t even know what he was going to say. He should have something ready, something to calm Esca down. Esca was so high-strung, sometimes getting worked up over the littlest things. Marcus was always the one who listened to his rants patiently, letting them bounce off until Esca calmed down and apologized.

 _Ring._

 _Goddamnit, Esca, pick up your fucking phone._

 _Ring._

Marcus fought back tears. Having Esca answer his phone couldn’t be asking too much, could it?

 _Ring._

The tone of the silence changed, and Marcus took a quick breath, opening his mouth.

“You have reached-” a pause, and then, “Esca,” as Esca’s own voice came through, and Marcus could still remember sitting on the couch, watching Esca set the damn thing up, rolling his eyes at having to do it. The automated voice picked up again. “If you’d like to leave a message, please wait for the tone.”

It would have to do. Marcus waited, the soft tone _blipped_ in his ear, and he opened his mouth.

“Esca. It’s me. Listen, I don’t have a lot of time….”

~*~

As he stepped through the elevator doors and onto his floor, Esca reached down to touch the small box tucked into his front pants pocket for the fifteenth time since leaving the jeweler’s. He knew it wasn’t going anywhere, but he couldn’t help checking every two minutes to make sure.

Actually picking up the rings had made everything suddenly _real_ , and he was nearly giddy with the excitement. It felt like had had stuck his finger in a socket, as though he was filled with energy and just barely holding together at the seams. If anyone asked, he would have sworn he was right about to float up off the floor.

He reached to his pocket again as he was walking down the hallway to his office.

Shaking his head, finally resigned to that fact that until he actually asked Marcus he was going to be a basket case, he gave up trying to pretend he wasn’t doing it, and stroked his thumb over the lump.

“Honestly, Esca, in a public place?”

Esca stopped, looked up and grinned at the sight of Cottia leaning out of her office to look at him, a wry grin on her face.

“Hey, Cots,” he said, very much aware he was grinning like an idiot.

Her own smile widened. “You got them, then?” He nodded. “Oooh,” she squealed. “I wanna see!”

Looking around, Esca stepped into her office. No one else knew yet what he was planning, and he had no plans to tell them, but Cottia was different. Already best friends with Marcus when she’d changed jobs and started working at Esca’s company, she and Esca had quickly hit it off. And when she suggested—to each of them—that she knew someone who would be just perfect for the other, they decided to one date wasn’t too much of a hardship to make her happy.

One date had led to two, which had led to three, then a half dozen and then some really great sex. Inside of six months, Esca had realized he was happier than he’d been in years, and within a year, Marcus had tentatively suggested getting a place together. Neither had ever regretted it, and Cottia got all the credit.

Gently, Esca slipped the gray velvet box from his pocket and opened it, turning it so that it faced Cottia. He did not let it go. She leaned over, fingers hovering just above the two rings, but not touching. “Oh, Esca,” she sighed. “They’re lovely.”

Inside the box were two rings. They didn’t match, but Esca liked it better that way, and he didn’t think Marcus would mind. His was on top, and he slipped it free to hold so Cottia could examine.

Black titanium, inlaid with a ribbon of white gold that wound its way around the band in a Celtic pattern.  He hadn’t planned on getting any sort of symbolism, but the design was striking, eye-catching, and something about the way it had looked on his finger appealed to him.

“Unsual,” Cottia said.

Esca shrugged. “It fits me.” He slid it back inside and then took out the other ring. “What do you think of Marcus’s?”

When he’d gone to look at rings, he’d been planning to get Marcus a simple band. But as he’d looked over the case, something else had caught his eye. It had been gold, yes. Esca had always known it would be gold, and a plain ring would have suited Marcus. But this ring…. It had a brushed finish, giving it a softer look, and there was an abstract impression along the band that reminded him of laurel leaves, or maybe feathers. Once he’d pictured it on Marcus’s hand, he found that no other designs measured up.

“It suits him,” Cottia said softly.

“If he says yes,” Esca murmured returning the ring to its resting place, and Cottia looked up at him in disbelief.

“Is there any doubt?” she laughed. “Oh, Esca, don’t be silly. You have no idea how he looks at you. Believe me, he’ll say yes.”

Esca closed the box and slipped it into his pocket. “I guess I’ll find out tonight, yeah?”

“So…big plans?”

Giving another shrug, Esca started to answer. “Nothing too big, but I—”

He was interrupted by running footsteps and Liathan slammed into the doorframe of Cottia’s office. “You guys have got to come see this!”

“Not now, Liathan,” Cottia said crossly. “We’re busy.”

“No, seriously, you have to come check this out! There’s a bank robbery in process over on Parkway. They’ve called in S.W.A.T.! Come on, the TV’s on in the break room.”

Parkway. That wasn’t too far from where they were. With a helpless shrug, Esca followed. “We’ll talk later,” he muttered to his friend and they all filed into the break room to join the others clustered around the TV.

Esca moved to one of the edges. He didn’t need to see all that well, there would be plenty of replays later if he felt like watching. Then he caught a glimpse of the bank and gasped.

“Shit,” he said, surprised.

“What?” Cottia asked.

“That’s our bank,” Esca said. “ _Shit_. And we were supposed go later today to get traveler’s checks for our trip next week. Guess we’ll have to go to another branch.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, hun. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Esca nodded, and focused back on the live news feed.

Then the camera panned, getting a wide sweeping shot of the street before focusing on some movement within the building. Esca went very, very still.

“No,” he whispered. “ _No_.” He shoved forward, getting closer to the TV and ignoring the grumbling of his coworkers.

“Esca?” he heard Cottia say, but ignored it. Then a hand tugged on his arm. “Esca, what is it? You’re as white as ghost.”

“I think,” he started and then licked his lips. “I think that was Marcus’s car.” He strained his eyes looking at the TV, but couldn’t see the flash of the car he’d seen when the camera panned. It probably wasn’t Marcus’s car, just a similar one. But there had been _something_ in that brief glimpse, and he was tense and nervous. He just needed to see it again and make sure.

“Anyone got a laptop?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the screen in case it panned again.

“Yeah, one sec,” someone said and left the room. He came back a moment later and asked, “What do you need?”

“Just see if you can find me a video that has the pan on it.”

“Okay.”

The quiet sounds of a keyboard clicking came from behind him and Esca kept his eyes glued on the TV. He found his left hand clenching and unclenching in a fist while his right one gripped the jewelry box in his pocket. Everything around him felt muted while the colors and sounding pouring out of the TV were harsh, overly loud and bright.

“This might be it,” the person would the laptop muttered, and at that moment, Esca couldn’t have honestly said who it was. “Here.”

They spun the laptop around on the table and Esca tore his eyes from the TV to play it. He missed it the first time he saw the flash, but caught it on the next and just _stared_. A black Lexus, non-descript except for the stylized eagle outline in one corner and a silly, smiling sun in the other.

A _stupid fucking smiling sun_ that Esca had bought and stuck on Marcus’s car as a joke, and Marcus had never removed it.

“Oh, God,” he managed, quite weakly, and he was suddenly on his ass in the middle of the break room, shaking, Cottia shoving his head between his knees and hissing “ _breathe_ ” in his ear.

It was no more than a couple of seconds, but it felt like an eternity before Esca was able to blink the spots out of his eyes, was able to focus on Cottia saying something to the others. He fumbled blindly at his pockets, searching for his phone, his movements becoming increasingly frantic as he struggled to find it.

Cottia grabbed his hands. “Esca, what? What are you looking for?”

“My phone,” he said dumbly, jerking his hands free. “I have to find my phone. I have to call Marcus.”

He’d checked his pockets. They were all empty. He knew they were empty, but he went through them again, and was about to a third time. “I have to call Marcus,” he muttered.

“Liathan, go get my phone off my desk,” Cottia hissed, and then grabbed Esca’s hands again. “Esca, stop. Think. When did you have it last?”

Going limp, he stared at her. Where had he left his phone? He traced his actions back, trying to remember the last time he knew he’d had it. In the car, pulling out of the parking lot of the jewelry store. He’d called the Italian place Marcus loved to make reservations. He wasn’t going to do something stupidly romantic like propose over dinner, but he thought some nice food, some nice wine, and then going to make love, either fucking Marcus into the mattress or letting Marcus do that to him, and then were they were sated and exhausted, he’d pull out the little box and hope for the best—

“ _Esca_!” Cottia snapped, shaking him.

Right. Phone. He’d just hung up when some asshole had cut him off. He tossed the phone onto the seat to grab the wheel with both hands, and it had slipped under his jacket. He hadn’t grabbed it when he came back in.

“My car,” he said blankly. “Passenger seat.”

“Okay, I’ll go get it. Give me your keys.” He fumbled them out of his pocket and handed them to her. Then she twisted on her knees, grabbing her phone from Liathan and shoving it into Esca’s hands. “For right now, use mine. I’ll be right back.” She stood, kicked her heels off, and with a terse, “Stay with him!” to Liathan, darted out the door.

Esca’s scrolled through Cottia’s contacts until he came to Marcus’s and hit send. “Pick up,” he muttered as it started to ring. “Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

It rang and rang and rang and then went to voicemail. Esca cursed, hung up and immediately redialed. Same thing. He tried again. Did they let you keep your cell during a robbery? Was it off? Was Esca trying to call a small pile of shattered plastic and glass?

He lost track of the number of times he tried, shutting out everything around him, listening to the rings and the goddamn voice mail message and Marcus saying his own name oh so seriously. His right hand was sweating where it held Cottia’s phone pressed far too tightly to his face, and his other hand was buried in his hair and pulling.

“…reports of shots fired earlier. Gunmen have refused to negotiate and police say S.W.A.T. teams are moving into position. We’re being asked to…”

Esca spun around, managing to get to his feet. He could see an overhead view from a helicopter of police units moving into position, and then gunfire erupted from the bank. Several people in the room yelled, momentarily drowning out the sound from the TV.

“Shut up!” someone snapped.

Police were returning fire now and Esca couldn’t look away. He stared, transfixed, horrified at the destruction playing out before their eyes. A black clad form darted from one of the shattered windows and was immediately brought down with a barrage of weapons fire. The police moved closer, edging toward the building, and one officer tossed one of those smoke canisters inside.  It was chaos on the screen, and Esca couldn’t pull his eyes away.  _Marcus is in there_ , he kept thinking.  The place where people were shooting each other and getting killed was where the one person he really loved was trapped.  And as he listened to the rings and the recorded voice, that was all he could think of.

 _Marcus is in there._

“ _Esca_!” Cottia ran up beside him, her face incredibly pale except where her cheeks were flushed red. Her eyes were very, very wide and she held Esca’s phone out to him.

He dropped her phone, simply let it slide out of his hand to clatter onto the floor and grabbed his own from her, tapping the screen to check it.

1 Missed Call

1 New Voicemail

Below both messages was Marcus’s name. The missed call was time stamped two minutes earlier. Esca cursed again, a sudden harsh burst as he hit the voicemail key. He had to slow down to enter his password, and as soon as he heard “You have-” he hit the key to immediately take him to his messages.

“Esca. It’s me.” As soon as he heard Marcus’s voice, Esca knew something was very, very wrong. Marcus was speaking quietly, but Esca could hear the strain in it, the ragged edge.

Marcus sounded so tired and hurt and _weak_. That wasn’t good. Marcus wasn’t weak. They joked about how big and strong he was, how nothing could fell him, and Esca had _never_ heard him sound like _this_ before.

It scared him.

“Listen, I don’t have a lot of time. I don’t even know when you’re gonna get this. I’ve gotten into some trouble and I don’t think I’m getting out of it. I just wanted to talk to you and I don’t even know what to say now. ‘Course I probably wouldn’t know what to say even if I had years, but, God, I’m babbling. If I were really taking to you, you’d tell me shut up now.”

Esca laughed out a strangled scream of laughter, because, yeah, that’s the point when he would have told Marcus to shut up.

“I’m sorry, Esca. Looks like you’ll be going on vacation by yourself.” A soft, pained huff of laughter. “Sorry. Not funny. I just…God, fuck, Esca, I love you.” Marcus’s voice broke and there was a moment of harsh heaving breathing. “I didn’t say it enough and I’m sorry. I love you. I love you so fucking much and I have loved every moment of my life with you and you have to know that. I wish you were here right now. I want you here, I want to see you. I don’t want to say goodbye to a phone, I want to say goodbye to _you._ ”

Marcus’s voice broke again on a harsh sob, and then he was _crying_ , and Esca curled up over on his knees on the floor, his left arm wrapped tightly around his chest to keep himself from falling apart, crying right along with Marcus.

“Christ, Esca, I’m scared, I’m so fucking scared, and I just want to be home with you and never let you go, and—”

On the message, Esca heard the sudden explosion of gunfire and shattering glass. Screams stabbed into his ear and even over all the cacophony, Esca heard Marcus’s cry of pain. There were the sounds of movement, then suddenly the background noise was muffled slightly, and Marcus’s voice was very loud, as if he’d brought the phone to his mouth and cupped his hands around it.

“I love you, Esca, I love you. Never doubt that. Always have, always will. Forever. I love you, I lo—”

The message ended and some alien voice was telling Esca if he wanted to delete the message to do _something_ , but Esca just buried his face in his knees. He didn’t bother to hold back his wail of grief, and he didn’t react to the arms that wrapped around him.

“Help me,” a woman said to someone else and hands carefully lifted him and set him on the couch.

Cottia knelt in front of him. “We don’t know yet, Esca,” she said. “We don’t _know_. Until the police confirm anything, we—”

She stopped, unable to keep going when she saw the expression on his face.

Esca turned away from her, and as the TV continued to play out images of police swarming into the building, he went to his voicemail messages and held his phone up to his ear to listen again.

And again.

And again.


End file.
